A common expedient, madam; but serviceable, madam, serviceable." The snort which Miss Butterworth gave as she thus found herself drawn up in darkness before a curtain, in company with this plausible old man, but feebly conveyed her sensations, which were naturally complex and a little puzzling to herself.

Had she been the possessor of a lively curiosity (but we know from her own lips that she was not), she might have found some enjoyment in the situation.

But being where she was solely from a sense of duty, she probably blushed behind her screen at the position in which she found herself, in the cause of truth and justice; or would have done so if the opening of the front door at that moment had not told her that the critical moment had arrived and that the deaf-and-dumb valet had just been introduced into the house.
The faintest "Hush!" from Mr.Gryce warned her that her surmise was correct, and, bending her every energy to listen, she watched for the expected appearance of this man in the antechamber of Mr.Adams's former study.
He came even sooner than she was prepared to see him, and laying down his hat on a table near the doorway, advanced with a busy air toward the portiere he had doubtless been in the habit of lifting twenty times a day.

But he barely touched it this time.

Something seen, or unseen, prevented him from entering.